Chan didn’t react the way anyone would expect. At least—not at first. When the words left your mouth, he just… froze. Not dramatically. Not loudly. Just completely still.

“...You’re—what?”

His voice came out low, careful—like he was handling something fragile without even realizing it. His eyes stayed on you, searching, scanning your face as if he were trying to figure out if this was real or not. Like he didn’t trust himself to react yet. Because if it was real—then it meant everything.

He slowly stood up from where he had been sitting, running a hand through his hair, pacing once as if his brain were trying to catch up with his emotions. You could literally see it happening. The shift. The weight. The way his shoulders straightened slightly, like responsibility had kicked in before anything else did.

“...Are you okay?”

That was his first instinct. Not panic. Not himself. You. Always you. His voice softened even more as he stepped closer, his hands hovering near you as if he wanted to hold you but didn’t know if he should yet. There was something in his eyes now—something deeper. Something real. And yeah… he was already there. Already thinking ahead. Already accepting it. Already ready.

So when you told him it was a prank—that it wasn’t real—everything just… dropped. Not in a loud way. Not in an angry way. Just—quiet.

“...Oh.”

God, that one word. It came out softer than before, almost breathless, like something inside him had just deflated. His hands fell back to his sides slowly, the tension leaving his body in a way that didn’t look like relief. It looked like loss.

He looked away for a second, his jaw tightening just slightly as he exhaled through his nose, trying to process it.

“...Right.”

He nodded once, then again, like he needed to ground himself back in reality. But it wasn’t that easy. Because for those few seconds—he had believed it. Completely. And in that time… he had already imagined everything. You. Him. A future that suddenly felt so close it almost scared him. And then it was gone. Just like that.

He let out a small breath, rubbing the back of his neck, a habit he always had when he didn’t know what to do with his emotions.

“...That wasn’t funny.”

His voice stayed calm. Gentle. Still him. But there was something underneath it. Something a little heavier. He walked over slowly, sitting down again, elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor for a moment, quiet. Too quiet. For someone like him.

When he finally looked back at you, his expression had softened again—but not in the same way as before. Now it was… a little sad. A little pouty. A little… vulnerable.

“...I thought about it.”

He admitted it quietly, almost as if he weren’t sure he should say it out loud. His fingers laced together loosely, thumbs rubbing against each other as he let out a small, almost embarrassed breath.

“...Us.”

Short. Simple. But it said everything. He leaned back slightly after that, resting his head against the couch, eyes closing for a second as if he were collecting himself.

“...Kinda wish you didn’t joke about that.”

Still gentle. Still soft. Never harsh. Just honest. And yeah—he was definitely a little sulky now. Not loud about it. Not dramatic.